Twenty Questions
by CrystallicSky
Summary: Q: How much does a polar bear weigh? A: Enough to break the ice! Jack suggests a rousing game of twenty questions in order to better get to know his new boyfriend, who reluctantly agrees. CHACK, ONESHOT


**Twenty Questions**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, nor any of the things referred to in this fic, such as Crayola crayons and The Labyrinth, etc.**

Warnings: Cursing and mild sexual implication.

Chase Young had had a feeling that taking Jack Spicer as his lover would lead to inconvenience at least _somewhere_ down the line.

This feeling had proven correct only a week after doing so.

"Chase," the goth had posed, "can we talk?"

"Of what?" he had replied.

"Well…" Jack shuffled his feet almost nervously. "I know we've been…dating each other awhile, but I don't really feel like I…_know_ you."

"I see," the warlord considered, acknowledging that the young man had a point. "What do you propose be done about it?"

"You're not gonna like it."

Chase was sure he wouldn't, now, but nonetheless demanded, "Tell me, anyways."

"How much does a polar bear weigh?" Jack inquired.

"…I don't know, offhand, Spicer."

"The answer is: enough to break the ice," the young man explained. "I'm saying we should give ice-breakers a shot."

"…" Golden eyes stared blankly at the goth for a moment. "You were right," he decided. "I _don't_ like it."

"Aw, come on!" Jack begged, a subtle whine in his voice. "_Please…?_"

"Will you shut up about it if I agree?" the warlord wondered.

"Yeah, totally."

"Fine," the man reluctantly agreed. "I shall play along with your ice-breakers, provided there are no 'team-building activities' involved…?"

"Oh, _god_ no," the albino gagged in disgust, "nothing like that; I figured we could just ask each other questions that we both have to answer so we can get to know each other better."

Chase took a seat on the nearby sofa, not bothering to protest when Jack immediately joined him, not even a full inch away: he was getting far too used to the goth's clingy nature.

"You start," he instructed, "show me what you mean."

"Okay," the young man chirped, eagerly asking, "are you an early bird, or a night owl?"

"Early bird," the warlord answered. "I've never seen any point in wasting the daylight, especially growing up without the privilege of electricity: there's not much productive to do after dark."

"I'm a night owl," Jack shrugged, "I'm _very_ Irish-American, and being albino, too, I burn _easily_. Besides, the really good night clubs don't open until midnight, anyways. Now it's your turn: you get to ask me a mindless question, and then we both answer it."

Chase thought for a moment before posing, "If you could visit any location in the world, where would it be?"

"Mmm…that's a tough one…I mean, I'd _want_ to go to Egypt, 'cause the culture is pretty sweet, and there's some mummies and artifacts I'd like to see, but it probably wouldn't end up being a fun trip because of the heat/sun." The goth ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I guess my second choice would be Canada."

"Canada?" the warlord speculated.

"Yeah," Jack assured, "Canada: I've always wanted to see Niagra Falls."

"…And?"

"…and, they'd probably be one of the easiest places to take over, 'cause they're peaceful people..."

Chase snorted. "I should have known."

"And you?" Jack reminded.

"I've _been_ everywhere, Spicer," the warlord informed. "They are all the same to me."

"Alright," the goth grumbled, annoyed at not getting an actual answer, but deciding not to push it, "moving on: if you were a flavor of ice cream, what flavor would you be?"

The warlord made a noise that was suspiciously like a whine. "_Must_ we do this?"

"Yes. Flavor of ice cream: go!"

"Chocolate Cherry."

Jack grinned and snickered, "Because you're dark and rich, but sweet and tasty on the inside?"

Chase only scowled at him.

"I guess _I'd_ be Cookie Dough, 'cause-"

"You're soft and undercooked?" the warlord smirked.

The goth winced, admitting, "Alright, I deserved that. Your turn."

"What do you believe the most interesting thing about yourself is?" the man inquired.

"I'm persistent," the youth decided immediately. "I don't just 'give up', even when something's _really, really_ hard. I just…fail at it repeatedly in the hopes that I'll stop failing sooner or later: that's what happened with us, kinda."

"I am glad of it," Chase grinned, sneaking a quick kiss in while he had the chance. "I suppose the most interesting thing about me is what I have accomplished: very few men have gained the power I have, and those that did have not kept it _nearly_ as long."

"Yeah," Jack cooed a sappy look on his face, "you're _awesome_... But anyways, do you have any weird habits?"

"I snore," the warlord confessed, "_loudly_. I'm sure I don't have to tell _you_ that, however."

The goth laughed. "No kidding! You could wake the dead with that: you're lucky I'm a heavy sleeper! I guess a weird habit of mine is that I bite my nails. I know it's gross and not healthy, but I've done it since I was six and haven't been able to stop."

"If you can live with my snoring, I can certainly manage to deal with your nail-biting," Chase assured.

"Fair enough; next?"

The man obediently asked, "If you could wish for anything, what would you wish for?"

"A sandwich."

"Really, Spicer."

"No, really," the goth insisted, "I'd wish for a sandwich: if something out there exists that can grant _any_ wish, chances are it wouldn't be happy about granting _me_ a wish. If I wished for, like, the world, I'd probably get a globe, or I'd _get_ the world, but only for five minutes. With a sandwich, it can't be misinterpreted as anything else, and even if I don't actually get to eat it, it's like, 'Hey who cares? It's just a sandwich'."

"I see," Chase said, giving him an odd look.

"What about you?" Jack wondered. "What would you wish for?"

"I would wish for my soul back."

"Oh, that's right," the youth realized, "Bean still has it, doesn't he?"

The man nodded.

"Don't worry, baby," Jack declared, "we'll kick his ass until he gives it back. That or we'll kill him: one or the other."

"Hannibal is all-powerful," the warlord scoffed, "I doubt even our combined efforts could destroy him."

"Don't' believe in yourself!" the goth demanded. "Believe in me who believes in you!"

"…What?"

"So anyways, if you could change anything about yourself physically, what would it be?"

Realizing he wouldn't get an answer, Chase merely sighed, "I wish I were taller; not by much, but perhaps an inch or two wouldn't hurt. I get the feeling five-foot-nine evil would be more imposing than five-foot-seven evil."

"N'aww, you're tall enough as is!" the man's lover assured. "At least you're not albino; I'd give up _that_ curse _any_ day."

"Curse? I disagree, Spicer," the dragon, opined. "Perhaps your eyesight and ability to withstand sunlight have suffered because of it, but your albinism is actually quite attractive."

"Really?" Red eyes were wide and hopeful at the statement.

"Of course," Chase purred. "Your coloring is very lovely; I doubt I have ever seen an individual who pulls off what is supposed to be a defect with such allure as you do."

"You're just _trying_ to get me to fuck you, aren't you?" Jack accused.

"Is it working?" the man asked with his trademark smirk.

The goth slapped him lightly on the arm. "Just ask a question, you horn-dog."

"Very well," he reluctantly agreed, "what was the last book you read?"

"The last book I read?"

"I'm curious," Chase informed, "as to whether you read at all, or if you are one of those people that simply choose not to."

"I _read_," the teenager indignantly answered. "The last book I read was Catcher in the Rye; I had to read it for school, but I liked it anyway: it was pretty good."

"It wasn't 'crummy'?" the warlord teased.

"Shut up, you; what'd _you_ read last?"

"Grendel," Chase answered, "it is essentially Beowulf from the monster's perspective. It has been around for a while, but I never got around to reading it; I must say, I wasn't disappointed."

"Well, then I might give it a try one of these days," Jack grinned. "What's your favorite line or scene from a movie?"

"Surprisingly enough, I enjoyed Jareth's monologue at the end of The Labyrinth; I identify with him, a bit, although I can only hope I am less flamboyant."

Jack snickered. "Trust me, you're not _that_ flamboyant; I don't think _anybody_ really is. You _are_ just as pretty/awesome, if that's any comfort."

"Don't forget the rules of this little game of yours," the man chided. "You have to answer the question, as well."

"We like the same movie, actually," the goth grinned, " 'cause mine's from The Labyrinth, too. I really like _any_ of the moments when Sarah's complete and utter immaturity is pointed out to her, but my favorite is when she just whines, 'Its not _fair_!' and Jareth totally tells her off with, 'You say that so often: I wonder what your basis for comparison is.' It's just…_win_."

"Interesting," Chase decided, "perhaps we aren't as different as I suspected." Nonetheless, they were in the midst of a game, and the dragon continued, "What are your favorite rainy day activities?"

"Oh, sleeping, no question. I hate being outside in the rain, so I just curl up under a crap-load of blankets and go back to sleep; maybe drink some hot cocoa first if I feel like it."

"Yet another thing we agree on: even _I_ sleep in when it rains."

"Maybe next time its rainy out, we can sleep _together_…" The young man waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Chase smirked. "Who's trying to get whom to fuck them, now?"

"Alright, alright, what's your favorite song?"

The warlord crossed one leg over the other, idly deciding, "_Schism_ by Tool."

"Really?" the goth blinked in surprise. "You don't strike me as that type of person. Are we thinking of the same song?"

"_Cold silence has / a tendency to / atrophy / sense of compassion…_"

"Wow," Jack murmured, impressed, "I guess we are thinking of the same one. Mine's _You're Gonna Go Far, Kid_ by The Offspring."

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one," the man admitted.

"I wouldn't expect you to be: _now dance, fucker, dance / man, I never had a chance / And no one even knew / it was really only you._ Not your scene, right?"

"Mm, not exactly," he conceded, "although I don't believe I would mind hearing you sing the rest sometime, or perhaps another song entirely. I rather like your singing voice, Spicer."

"Pft," the teen scoffed openly, "like yours sucks!"

"Regardless, I should like you to sing for me, sooner or later," Chase instructed.

"I'll think about it," Jack grumbled, already blushing a little at the idea, "just ask another question."

"Since you're being difficult with me, what is the most _embarrassing_ thing that has _ever_ happened to you?"

"Aw," the albino moaned, "do I _hafta_…?"

"Yes."

"You're _evil_…"

Chase only smirked. "Is that not the whole reason you idolize me so much in the first place?"

His lover glared at him, pouting. "You couldn't be smugger if you tried, you bastard."

"And your most embarrassing moment…?"

"I…got a crayon stuck up my nose…"

"...oh?"

"Crayola brand, Brick Red; I'll never forget it." Jack's cheeks were about the same color as the crayon in question. "Don't ask me why I did it, it was really stupid."

"It's not _that_ bad," the dragon comforted, nonetheless smiling in amusement, "small children have a tendency to put things up their noses for no particular reason."

The albino blushed harder. "…I was twelve."

"…" The warlord put a hand over his mouth in a combined effort of keeping his dignity and sparing his lover's feelings by not laughing like hell, but Jack could clearly see the golden eyes that loudly exclaimed (in netspeak), 'O RLY? XD'

"Shut up," he moaned, "that was the worst five minutes of my life…!"

"The worst five minutes of your life is one of the most amusing things I've ever heard," the man chuckled, doing his damnedest not to outright cackle sadistically.

"Well, what about you?" the goth demanded. "What's the dumbest thing _you've_ ever done?"

Suddenly, everything became less funny. "I…"

"No, come on, I said mine, now you say yours."

"I misspelled 'a', once…"

"…seriously? You misspelled 'a'? As in, 'this is _a_ puppy'?"

Chase nodded, avoiding eye-contact.

Jack burst into laughter, snorting, "_Fail_, Chase: Epic Fail! That's even worse than that sign they put right in front of the security camera! Or those road markings that said 'SOTP' and 'BMUP'!"

"Can we move on, please?" the man grumbled.

"Okay," the goth sighed, breathing heavily, "okay, I'm good; but trust me, you will never live that down."

"Wonderful…" he groaned.

"ANYWAYS: what's your favorite kind of candy?"

"Personally," Chase sighed, "I enjoy taffy."

"Chocolate rocks for me," the goth decided, "probably 'cause they look like rocks, but they're chocolate."

"Yes, I gathered that from the name 'chocolate rocks'."

"No, I mean…argh." Jack face-palmed for a moment, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "Like, they just look like decorative rocks, so no one else will eat 'em. It sucks when someone finds your chocolate stash and eats it, because sometimes you just _need_ the fucking chocolate, and somebody had to go and be an asstard by eating it. With the chocolate rocks, that's not a problem."

"Mm," the man acknowledged, but his tone said that he was still dubious.

"Just ask the next question, Chase," the goth muttered in surrender.

"What month were you born in?"

"Oh, that's actually a pretty good one; April 1st, 'cause I'm just lucky that way. You can imagine how bad my birthdays suck: 'Ha, you were born on April Fool's Day because your parents were fooling around!' Rrgh. You?"

"January 4th," his lover answered.

"Oh, cool," the goth remarked, "our birthdays are inverse: 04/01 and 01/04."

"That _is_ interesting," Chase noted with a small measure of surprise.

"My turn right?"

The warlord nodded.

"Okay, what's your least favorite thing to do?"

"Cutting my hair," the dragon snorted, "I _hate_ it, even its just to prevent split ends."

"If it's any consolation, you look gorgeous. You _did_ just trim your hair, didn't you?"

Chase frowned and grumbled, "Yes, I did…"

White fingers snatched up a lock of black-green and inspected it. "Not a single split-end; it really _does_ looks healthier when you cut it every once in a while, you know, and by transition, much prettier."

"Thank you."

"My least favorite thing to do would probably have to be…chemistry. I fuckin' hate chemistry sideways, up a tree," Jack scowled fiercely.

"Interesting choice of words," the man commented with a small grin.

"Yeah, I guess it is, but it's your turn."

"Fine, what is your _favorite_ thing to do?"

"I like snuggling," the young man answered, making his incredibly close position to his lover further known by doing said activity. "It's nice, because I don't usually get to do it, not having any family or friends to conceivably do it with."

"I enjoy that sort of closeness, as well," Chase admitted, wrapping an arm around the goth's shoulders. "I have many enemies, and it is rare that I have the chance to be so physically close to another and not have to worry about my opponent's next move. Besides that," he gave the slender shoulders an affectionate squeeze, "your warm-blooded body is very comfortable up against mine, clothed or otherwise."

"Oh, you insinuating bastard," Jack scoffed, kissing the man, "I love you; if you suddenly turned into the opposite gender, what would you hate the most?"

"The menstrual cycle," the dragon snorted, "_disgusting_. I do not fault females for having one; I simply find it _nauseating_ that they do."

The goth snickered. "I would think having _boobs_ would be the worst: just having them there on your chest, not really serving any purpose unless you're a nursing mom. They seem like they'd be really awkward and in the way, like if you're trying to get close to your man or bending over a desk to reach something _way_ at the other end of it; plus, if they're big, you can get back problems, and hormonal dudes would just gawk at you like a piece of meat. Breasts are more trouble than they're worth, if you ask me."

"Trust me, Spicer," Chase informed, "I am infinitely glad that you have chosen penises over breasts."

"It's your turn," the young man stated matter-of-factly.

"What is one thing you couldn't live without?" his lover dutifully asked.

"I'd have to say my helipack; it's gotten me out of a bunch of tough spots before, and it's just sort of always been good to have in emergencies. What about you?"

"I would say my dragon-form for much the same reason," the warlord decided. "I can't imagine not being able to transform at this point in my life."

"For future reference," Jack made known, "I would gladly fuck you while you're dragony; just putting that out there."

Golden eyes looked the youth up and down. "I shall keep that in mind…"

"Okay, one more question for each of us, 'cause I'm running out of stuff to ask: if you could keep any animal as a pet, what would it be?"

"I am content with my warriors," Chase assured.

"Aw, come on," the goth groaned, "don't be boring! Pick something else."

After a moment of consideration, the man decided, "I suppose a unicorn might be interesting to have in my possession, despite the fact that I would likely never encounter one due to the fact that I am neither a maiden, nor am I pure."

"I'd go for a hydra," Jack easily chose. "I like 'em because they have a bunch of heads, and if you cut 'em off, they just grow more heads."

"I see."

"Alright, Chase," the teen sighed, "pick a last question."

"What is something you would like to learn how to do?" the man inquired.

"Not suck completely at Showdowns? I don't necessarily wanna be the best there is, but I wanna…not suck." Jack blushed at the way that came out, and attempted to amend, "Or, at least, suck _less_."

"An acceptable request," the warlord chuckled, "perhaps if I could teach you how to 'suck less', you would teach me about some of this modern technology that is out there these days."

"You want to learn that?" the albino gaped, incredulous. "Really?"

"Much has happened in that field recently," his lover sighed. "I usually try to keep up, but it is difficult to do so with so much occurring all at once: I am afraid I have fallen a bit behind."

"Psh, I can help you with that, _easy_. You've got the harder part of the bargain: _me_ not sucking? I doubt even _you_ could pull _that_ off."

"Don't doubt me so soon, Spicer," the man chastised. "It will be difficult, but it is not impossible: even _you_ can learn. Besides," he purred, nudging the youth back onto the couch and straddling his waist, "we have _time_…"

"What do you mean, 'time'?" Jack inquired, given pause at the way the word had been said.

"Were you not aware?" Chase wondered, nuzzling the strong, pale column of throat available to him. "When I took you as mine, it was forever…"

The goth inhaled sharply at the word. "Fuh-forever…?"

"I thought you wanted me, _Jack_," the man growled softly. "Is eternity longer than you bargained for?"

Jack shook his head immediately. "No, it's not that, I just…_eternity_? You really want me for that long?"

Golden eyes gave him a blank stare. "I am a dragon, Spicer. I am extremely possessive of my things, and you have become one of them."

The goth curled his arms around the warlord's neck. "Wow," he spoke softly, "I never thought you'd want to…but I always sort of hoped..."

"Your hope has been fulfilled," Chase said simply, "you are mine forever."

Jack smiled brightly, cooing, "Best game of twenty questions _ever_."

"Indeed," the man agreed with a smirk, glad that his lover had found no need to protest eternity.

Perhaps having Jack Spicer as a lover wouldn't be so inconvenient after all…

**A/N: So, I was bored, and thought up this twenty questions idea; it turned out to be the longest oneshot I've ever written: whereas they usually come to about six or seven pages in a Word program, this one cleared a full 17 1/2 pages. -faints-**

However, I hope the effort is appreciated, and that you guys like the fic! :D


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